


The Brothers Trevelyan

by ShrimpZilla



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Family, Protectiveness, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-11 02:12:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4417037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShrimpZilla/pseuds/ShrimpZilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Evelyn Trevelyan's three brothers come to visit Skyhold and do not like Cullen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Brothers Trevelyan

**Author's Note:**

> written for dragon age kink meme

“What’s this?” Cullen looked up from the chess board to where Trevelyan was indicating. Somehow in the mess that was his desk she had pinpointed the one stack of paperwork he should have hidden better. She had caught him off guard with her appearance in his quarters and her request for a game. He couldn’t refuse her and it would have looked more suspicious if he had scrambled to get the notes out of sight. He tried to fight the feeling of blood rushing to his face and set his attention to the game again.

“Ah…” He began, trying to figure out exactly he could phrase it without sounding like an absolutely pathetic man. “It’s information on the upcoming noble guests that Skyhold will be hosting. Leliana and Josephine want me to brush up, as it were.” It sounded reasonable. It wasn’t even a lie, technically. He moved one of his pieces and leaned back in his seat. When he looked up he was horrified to see that Trevelyan was leafing through the papers with a smile growing on her face. Whatever blush he might have been able to stave off before returned in full force.

“Cullen,” she began, giving him an amused look. “This is just filled with totally inconsequential facts about my brothers.” She giggled a little and pointed to line that he couldn’t see from his angle. “Lancel’s favorite color? Kay’s favorite foods?” She flipped a few more pages in and he felt himself sinking down in his seat, mortified. “This… well, this is just a list of all the people Percy has courted.” She flipped the page. “It’s mostly just a list of all the people Percy has courted.” She put the paperwork aside and leaned over the chess board to move a piece. She put her elbows on either side of the game and held her chin in her hands. The smile she was wearing was both terrifying and exhilarating. She seemed genuinely amused and totally blind to the level of sheer humiliation that he was feeling. That was probably for the best. “Are you worried that you and my brother might have feelings for the same woman?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he answered quickly. He lowered his eyes to the game and tried to salvage the strategy he had been using. It was also much easier to speak to her when he didn’t have to look at her. Her beauty robbed him of whatever small amount of eloquence he might otherwise possess. “I simply don’t want to make a fool of myself in front of them. Ostwick is an important ally.” She shrugged and tilted her head to examine her choices once he had made his move.

“I’m a bit surprised is all,” she began slowly. “You’ve never really cared for nobles and their games before.”

“I want to make a good impression on your family,” he responded too quickly. He cursed himself for the obviousness of his motives. Surely this would be it. This would be the moment that the Inquisitor realized that he was harboring the most damnable crush this side of the Waking Sea. She would rebuke him, laugh at him, never spend time with him again, likely he would need to find a new career since either she would remove him from his post or he would do it himself. Instead of the epiphany that Cullen anticipated Trevelyan merely moved one of her pieces.

“Just be yourself,” she encouraged. Cullen looked up from the board at her. She was smiling but it was less amused and more… he didn’t really have a word for it just that it was beautiful, stunning, radiant. His mind balked as he processed her words. He frowned, self-doubt crashing down him.

“Yes, the lyrium addled ex-Knight Captain from a nowhere village in Ferelden. That’s bound to impress them,” he scoffed darkly. He set up the last part of his trap and would have the Inquisitor beaten within three more moves. It didn’t make him feel much better.

“I don’t mean all that.” She waved his words away with a hand. “I meant just be yourself, your personality. You try too hard sometimes, Commander. I liked you straight away when I met you.” Now _that_ made him feel better. His shoulders relaxed and he felt the frown disappear from his face.

“What?”

“I thought you were funny,” she elaborated. She picked up a piece to move and held it while she spoke. “Commander of the Inquisition’s forces, such as they are.” The impression was poor and she looked a little bashful at having attempted it. She put her piece back down to end her turn. “It made me smile.” She was still smiling even as she said it. Cullen smiled as well. He felt light enough that he might float out of his chair. He had never thought that she might find him funny. Stern, polite, reliable were all words he was confident were bandied around when describing him. Funny? By _her_? “Trust me,” she continued as he took his turn, “my brothers are some of the easiest men to get on with. Not to mention you have a lot in common with all three of them.” Cullen recalled that he had a lot in common with exactly one of them and even that was purely circumstantial because the brother in question was the one that on paper appeared to have slept with half of Thedas. He decided not to point this out and let her kind words stand as they were.

“Thank you, Inquisitor. You’ve eased my mind.” He gave her his best grateful smile and proceeded to win the game. He felt a little better about it than he had anticipated.

 

~

 

 

Cullen was getting his notes in order for the meeting they were set to have with Trevelyan and her brothers. There had been fanfare when the Ostwick troops arrived about a few hours ago but through all the things that needed to be sorted out there had been little time for introductions. The War Room would be the most appropriate place to meet them anyway, he surmised, and since they needed to go over the details of their alliance he was on his way there. He felt nervous like he hadn’t felt in a long time. As Trevelyan had said, it didn’t make sense for him to be so eager for them to like him. Really what he knew he was hoping for was for them to approve of him. He desperately wanted to be with the Inquisitor and if her brothers thought he was worthy then maybe she might as well. He paused in the hallway that led to the War Room when he heard voices from within.

“I hear congratulations are in order.” That was Trevelyan. Or rather, that was the Inquisitor. He suspected that all the voices in the conversation would belong to a Trevelyan.

“So the surprise’s been ruined? Oh well. It is the gossip of the season.” A man’s voice, one of her brothers. The middle one, he thought, because he had heard one of them was recently engaged. Percy Trevelyan.

“Whatever demented, debauched act that woman must’ve performed on you to get you to propose marriage I honestly cannot even begin to fathom. And I don’t want to.” A deeper, more even voice. The eldest then. Lancel Trevelyan.

Cullen caught himself. What was he doing eavesdropping like this? He should just enter. Or he should go back to Josephine’s office until she was ready and they could arrive together. He didn’t want to disturb the Inquisitor and her family. Despite his reasoning he didn’t move.

“I noticed that it isn’t Cecily you’re engaged to. That was who you were courting the last time we spoke,” the Inquisitor inquired politely. Maker, did he love the sound of her voice. So light and airy. He had heard Cole describe it to him as the wind through the Chantry bells in Honnleath. Cole was better at making poetry out of the jumble of feelings the Inquisitor provoked in Cullen at any given moment. He wondered if maybe he should ask the boy to write it done. …Did Cole know how to write?

“Yes. I broke that off.” Percy again.

“She broke it off,” a third voice added. Clearly a teenager and obviously the Inquisitor’s youngest brother. Kay Trevelyan.

“We mutually broke it off,” Percy said in a dismissing manner.

“What happened?” The Inquisitor asked. Maker, how could one woman possess so large a heart? The amount of concern in her voice was enough to make Cullen feel for her for feeling for her brother.

“Percy slept with a stable boy,” Kay said eagerly. “One of Cecily’s father’s stable boys,” he added quickly. “In the stable!” Clearly he was rushing so as not to be interrupted by anyone. “He did it just to spite mother and father. You know how he is.”

“No. Going through Templar training and then telling them they could shove that lyrium draught right up where the Maker can’t kiss it and disappearing for a month in Starkhaven, now that was to spite mother and father. This I did to spite Cecily,” Percy explained casually. Cullen wasn’t sure what to make of it. He had known that the Inquisitor had a brother who had taken Templar training only to stop before taking his vows. He couldn’t tell if he was offended at the disregard for what had been so important to him at one time. “Vicious harpy,” Percy addition brought him from his thoughts.

“Cecily always seemed so nice,” the Inquisitor said courteously. “A bit… dim, but nice. What happened?”

“A difference of opinion. She said she couldn’t understand why people got themselves so worked up about slave owning. After all, who wouldn’t want to not pay their servants?” He could hear the still smoldering anger in Percy’s voice. He tried to recall all the pages of things Leliana had given him. He pretended it really was for politics when really he suspected that the spymaster simply knew about his infatuation and was doing her best to help.

“His fiancé is common,” Kay threw in seemingly for no other reason than to be difficult to his brother. Cullen paid special attention now, leaning closer to the door and no longer caring what Josephine might say if she saw him. “I mean, low-born of course and not that she’s very ordinary. She’s half Rivaini and half Antivan.”

“Father isn’t pleased,” Lancel grumbled. It made Cullen’s stomach sink. If the family didn’t approve of one marriage to a common born woman then certainly any sort of dalliance he Inquisitor might have with him would be expressly forbidden by her family.

“And I don’t give a shit,” Percy insisted. “He’ll just have to learn to accept it. After all, it isn’t as if I’m losing my name and giving up my title to live as a farmer somewhere. Esme will be becoming a Trevelyan.” What little hope Percy’s initial declration had bolstered in Cullen came crashing down twice as hard. It was true. It was far worse for the Inquisitor, who was also far above her brother’s station being the holy chosen of the Maker’s Bride, to be with someone like him than for her brother. He bit back a groan and thought it was about time he stopped standing around listening to conversations that had nothing to do with him.

“It makes the family look bad to have commoners marrying in,” Kay whined. Or maybe Cullen was imagining he sounded whiny because he was being petty.

“Kay, that’s a very bad outlook to have,” the Inquisitor said calmly.

“Trust me, having Percy married at all will be a much bigger boon to the respectability of our family than having him run about single,” Lancel added in a no nonsense tone. Cullen took this as his moment. He took a steadying breath and pushed open the doors to the War Room. He tried to fight the feeling of dread that bubbled up in his gut when three men gave him a dubious look and focused instead on Trevelyan’s welcoming smile.

Josephine and Leliana were shortly behind him. They took up their places at the War Table with the advisors on their typical side and the Trevelyans on the other. The Inquisitor grinned happily, her whole face glowing with excitement. She gestured towards the men by her side.

“These are my brothers!” She exclaimed. “This is Lancel, Percy, and—“ Percy, a lean man whose slenderness spoke not of weakness but rather trim muscles that merely lacked bulk, threw an arm a little too roughly over the youngest’s shoulders. Kay floundered under the pressure. He was slender, tall, and knobby. He lacked the subtle definition of his middle brother and certainly looked nothing like the burly eldest brother. While the other three Trevelyans had wavy hair Kay’s was tightly curled and messy despite what looked like a lot of effort. Cullen instantly felt for him despite everything he had thus overheard.

“And this is Kay,” Percy supplied, snaking his arm from the boy’s shoulders to around his neck in what was seriously straddling the line of friendly roughhousing, “the person responsible for Evelyn being sent to the Circle.”

“That’s not true!” Kay refuted as he struggled to get out of the hold.

“Percy, my magic showed,” the Inquisitor—it had never occurred to Cullen to think of her as Evelyn as lovely and fitting a name as it was—said. She crossed her arms over her chest and somehow that alone was enough to separate the brothers. “That wasn’t Kay’s fault.”

“No, but it was his bath water that got frozen,” Percy said stubbornly. He put a hand on his brother’s head and mussed the already mussed hair. The younger boy’s face reddened. “Look upon him members of the Inquisition and see the true face of the Herald’s first betrayer.” His voice was pitched dramatically and seemingly despite herself the Inquisitor was laughing. At his side he saw Josephine make a valiant attempt at covering her grin with her hand, feigning a cough.

“Cut it out, Percy! You’re being a jerk!”

“Quit being a tit,” Lancel said sternly. He looked between Percy and Kay for a moment before added: “…Both of you.” The older man straightened his shoulders and suddenly the three men had a different air about them. Cullen was impressed. He had seen the Inquisitor do similar things, brush off a burst of lightheartedness and become firm and businesslike without a moment to spare. Seeing her brothers do the same thing it made him understand that it must come from being noble born. “Sorry that we didn’t make it here sooner,” Lancel started. “Things have been chaotic as of late, though I’m sure I needn’t tell you that.”

“We’ve been getting the supplies you’ve been sending. They’ve gone a long way,” Leliana said graciously.

“We were having issues at first. We had to stop putting the family crest on things,” Lancel continued. Cullen perked up.

“That’s no good. Was it Venitori attacking?” He asked. The other man waved his concern away.

“It didn’t seem like it. Just thugs looking to make a bigger name for themselves at the very least. Likely they assumed anything with the Trevelyan crest was heading to Skyhold for the Inquisition and that it was bound to be worthwhile.”

“Bet they felt like quite the fools when they busted open those crates of entirely shoes,” Percy snickered though it was still so much more contained than he had been before.

“We’ve brought more than that with us this time,” Lancel continued proudly. “In addition to the supplies, Lord Trevelyan, our father, has authorized me to send back for anything I think that Skyhold might need that Ostwick can spare.” He turned an affectionate smile to his sister and lowered his voice out of the commanding baritone he had been speaking to them with. “So you’ll need to show me around, Ev.” Cullen watched her smile back, his stomach fluttering even though the gesture was not directed at him. Maker, she was so wonderful.

It was strange, in a way, to look at her and see three masculine versions of her standing right there. If Cullen hadn’t known that they were siblings he would have at least guessed that they were related. They all had the same bronze hair, brown tinted with red and gold, though the Inquisitor’s was by far the shiniest and loveliest. The waves of it framed her face perfectly, falling about her shoulders in exactly the most flattering of ways. They all had the same green eyes but he doubted the brothers’ fell to blue around the centers in the same way that the Inquisitor’s did. He knew he should stop but he couldn’t. He looked at her, checking off in his head a list of everything that made her perfect. The way she stood so that her hip rested on the edge of the table, her arms crossed, her head angled ever so slightly because she was just listening that intently to what was being said.

“We’ve also brought a contingent of experienced and eager soldiers to bolster Inquisition forces. These are men I’ve trained myself and have the utmost faith and confidence in. I imagine you’ll be quite pleased with them, Commander Cullen.” Cullen could hear Percy talking, could even recognize the words and their meanings, but his attention refused to be torn from the Inquisitor. She looked when he was silent and it wasn’t until he felt Leliana’s foot crash down on his own that he jumped back to himself.

“What? Oh! Yes,” he stumbled, certain he had ruined all chances of making a good impression on these men. He could see it on their faces. Percy’s raised brows and Lancel’s furrowed one. Even Kay, young and totally ineffectual in the War Room scenario, was looking at his brothers as if in need of explanation as to what Cullen was. “I’m sure that I will be. I look forward to seeing what they can do.”

They continued with the meeting and Cullen endeavored to pay closer attention. He mostly succeeded, falling prey here and there to the Inquisitor when she switched her footing or raised an arm above her head in a languid stretch.

“Commander, may I have a minute?” Percy asked as Cullen was making to leave as quickly and quietly as possible. The Inquisitor had promised to take her brothers to the tavern to meet the rest of her inner circle. Cullen had hoped he could simply go back to his room, bury himself in work, and perhaps forget that he was the least equipped man in the world to deal with finding a woman attractive. Particularly while her family was visiting.

“How can I help you?” He asked rather than the highly attractive idea he had had to pretend he hadn’t heard and keep on walking. The brothers were standing in a tight group. Despite the clear rough edged habits of sibling rivalry they appeared to be quite comfortable around one another. He was tempted, for the moment, to believe what the Inquisitor had said. Perhaps they were easy going men who were simple to get along with. Of course, it didn’t actually _feel_ like that to Cullen. It felt an awful lot like they were sizing him up.

“Well,” Percy began, taking a step away from the little group to give the illusion that they were having a one on one conversation, “I thought it might be in good fun if we had a sparring match. You know, one ex-Templar turned army commander versus another.”

“Oh, I’m certain Varric would want to take bets,” the Inquisitor said from her place by the War Table.

“I’m not… entirely certain…” Cullen dawdled with his hand on the back of his neck. As he avoided looking directly at Percy his eyes caught the Inquisitor’s. His mind blanked. “Um, yes.” He nodded and managed to get his attention back Percy. “Of course. A friendly spar.”

 

~

 

Contrary to every plan he had made with himself that night Cullen found himself in the Herald’s Rest. He told himself that he would only stay for a round and then politely excuse himself. There was work to be done and he had Percy Trevelyan’s invitation to spar still hanging over his head. He was grateful that by the time the meeting was over it had been too late to make good on the agreement. Cullen’s resolve wavered when he found himself seated next to the Inquisitor after Cassandra and Solas stole his plan for leaving the fun early.

“Let’s play a game of yeses and nos,” Sera shouted, putting a foot up onto the table they were at as if she needed more of their attention than she had already received.

“I’ve never heard of that. I’m afraid to ask,” Varric chuckled.

“You go ‘round in a circle and ya say somethin’ that you never did. And then anyone else who has did it has to drink. Get it? It’s a lark. Works extra good when you play with people ya know’ll do anything.” The archer made a series of obvious head bobbing motions that led Cullen to believe she was implying that the Iron Bull would do anything. The mercenary grinned, clearly not put out by the assumption.

“This doesn’t really seem like the sort of thing—“ Cullen started already feeling embarrassment at the notion of something like this. This was a game for the types of people who normally played drinking games and thus had a plethora of amusing experience under their belts. His presence would only serve as a wet blanket for everyone else’s fun.

“Stay, Commander, we’re having so much fun,” Trevelyan requested, placing both her hands on his arm as he lifted himself from his seat. Whether he sat back down on his own or because his knees gave out he couldn’t be sure. All he knew was that he was sitting, she was smiling, and Sera was starting the round.

“Never played with dangly bits,” she announced happily which quickly turned to mock disgust as she watched several people at the table drink. “Yuuuuck. Gross. How can ya stomach it?”

“Well, that is a whole different issue, isn’t it?” Josephine asked, immediately going red and covering her mouth with a hand as the table lit up with raucous laughter.

It went on like that for more time than Cullen cared to count. Each time the game reached back to Sera he swore that this would be the moment he stood and left. But each time he intended another, quicker party bid the group goodbye and somehow Cullen couldn’t make himself leave after anyone else in that fashion. He supposed he must have been drunk because there was no real rationale behind it. There was, however, the pleasant weight of the Inquisitor’s knee where it bounced back and forth against his. Her foot would slide over every now and then and rest against his, and each time she would eventually remove it and adjust her posture with an apology to him.

“Hm, let’s see. I’ve never…” Varric drawled making a big show of searching his brain for something he might not have done. “Oh, I’ve never had a threesome. That one was for you, Tiny!” He exclaimed with a laugh, pointing at the Iron Bull as he made to finish his ale in one chug. Cullen was alarmed that most of the table seemed to be drinking, though it was its own relief that it served to mask his own lack of sexual dalliances from their eyes. His gaze met Varric’s except that the dwarf was paying him no mind and instead was focused intently on the woman by this side. Cullen belatedly realized that the Inquisitor had been drinking as well.

“Evelyn!” Lancel called in surprise once he had lowered his own tankard. Percy was pulling a similar stunt at the Iron Bull and opting to finish his drink. Cullen supposed it was meant to imply the sheer staggering amount of threesomes that both had had. Between the two drinking brothers Kay was staring at Lancel.

“Lancel?!” He said in a voice high with the insistence that someone needed to explain themselves. Percy lowered his mug and smiled hazily at everyone present.

“Percy!” He added happily, clearly too many drinks in to have a clear grasp on what was happening. Sera scrunched her nose and cackled.

“I guess should’ve mentioned it ain’t the kinda game you wanna play with your family.”

“Well, well, well,” Dorian smirked. Cullen was watching the Inquisitor from the corner of his eye as she let herself slump into her seat. “What a delightfully sexually liberated group of people we are. I have to say, I’m a little caught off by you Varric. Writing all those horrible books led me to believe you had an active love life.”

“Hey now!” Varric put his hands up in defense.

“ _Swords and Shields_ is a romance,” Lancel mumbled though still loud enough to be heard over the din. “The guard captain—“

“You’ve read _Swords and Shields_?” Varric interrupted out of pure and unrestrained shock. Cullen didn’t know why. Half the people in Skyhold had been passing the book around since it got out that the author was in their midst.

“That’s his favorite series,” Percy chimed against his brother’s stubbornly shaking head. “He’s been trying to play it cool this whole time but I bet it’s just been eating him up inside sitting next to _the_ Varric Tethras.”

“I’m flattered.” It was apparent by his smugness that he was more amused than anything else. Lancel made to open his mouth but Sera slammed her fist onto the table.

“Get on it with it! I want to drink! Next!”

“Wait a minute,” the Iron Bull said. It was his turn anyway so he could take as many minutes as he wanted. It would give Cullen a moment to time his next escape plan though his attention was still decidedly on the Inquisitor and her beer reddened cheeks and her sloppy grin. “I want to hear more about the Boss’ threesome.”

“Oh, Maker’s balls. I’m too drunk for this.” Lancel stood, pushing his unfinished ale in front one brother while moving to grab the shoulder of the other. “Come on, Kay, let’s go before my ears start bleeding.”

“It was mages, wasn’t it?” Percy asked excitedly, throwing an arm across the table so that he could punctuate each of his words by tapping his finger on the side of the Inquisitor’s ale. “Mages are always going at it. They’re like nugs. It’s really my only regret about not joining the Templars. You can’t just go to a Circle looking to score with a mage unless you’re a Templar.”

“I thought Templars took vows chastity?” Kay asked as he took his time following Lancel to the door. Clearly he didn’t often get to engage in drunken tavern nights and wasn’t eager to leave it behind. “I thought that’s why Percy wouldn’t join. Because he can’t think about anything that isn’t going on between his legs.”

“Not all Templars,” Cullen heard the words before he realized that he was the one speaking them. He stopped as all eyes swiveled to him and then awkwardly continued, “… take those vows.”

“Did you?” Percy pressed, seemingly more curious about the sex lives of the people he was drinking with than anything else. Cullen swallowed, tried to think of something that might sound clever even though he knew what with his nerves and the alcohol that was a sinking ship. He just didn’t want to say, no I never took vows like that I guess I always hoped I would fall in love and have a Chantry sanctioned marriage.

“Our lovely Commander isn’t a Templar anymore,” Dorian said, saving him. He looked over at the other man, oddly enough one of his closest friends in Skyhold, and gave him a look that he hoped read grateful. “So it really doesn’t matter, does it?”

“And he told me he didn’t take them,” the Inquisitor added unprompted. She lifted her mug to her lips, seemed to realize what she had done, and quickly turned to him. Her eyes were wide and her mouth hung open as she breathlessly tried to work her way through an apology. “Oh! I’m sorry, Cullen, that was private.” She pressed a hand against his shoulder. “I think I’ve had too much to drink,” she muttered as she gave an accusing glance at the drink in question. Cullen noticed that she didn’t move her hand away. “Why do you care so much?” She asked, now her accusing glance pointed at her brother and not her drink. “Not about Cullen’s vows, obviously, but about who I’ve slept with?”

“How else will I know what your type is so I can protect you from them?”

“First logical thing Percy’s said in his entire life,” Lancel added, walking back from where he had made it outside before realizing that Kay was not in tow. Slowly, so that her hand trailed down a part of his chest, the Inquisitor pulled away and crossed her arms over her chest in a challenge.

“Why don’t you just assume we have the same taste in lovers and protect me from that?” Percy stood so that he was surveying the table. He had a serious look on his face that was made more ominous by the fact that Cullen had just spent hours listening to him be a total fool without repentance.

“Well then,” he said at last, shaking his head and sighing. “It appears I can’t trust any of you around my sister.” The table erupted in laughter again. Everyone was amused by the joke, except for Cullen who felt that Percy Trevelyan had been looking directly at him when he said it.

~

The next morning Cullen found himself hoping that the idea of sparring would be far from Percy’s mind. He felt surprisingly good after the long night. He figured because he rarely got a full night’s sleep anyway. Percy, however, had drank considerably more than him during the course of the game and simply because he wanted to. It seemed fine for Cullen to hope that he would be too tired and hungover to want to engage in a fight.

As the Maker seemed to enjoy making an example out of him Cullen found Percy and his two brothers already by the training circle.

They exchanged polite if not stilted greetings. As if they had been waiting for him to arrive the Inquisitor and several of her inner circle appeared. Blackwall handed Cullen the padded doublet that was normally worn during such instances to prevent injury. When the Warden went to hand it to Percy the younger man scoffed. “Come now, Commander Cullen,” Percy said and Cullen tried not to hear mockery in the way his name and title were said, “we’re not children are we? Surely we can forgo the padding and,” the man gestured towards the training swords that stood on a board by the circle, “wood swords.”

“You're going to spar with real swords?” The Inquisitor asked, her voice sharp with concern. “Someone could get hurt.”

“No, of course not,” Lancel immediately stepped in. Cullen frowned a little but as it was the default cant of his mouth no one seemed to take much notice to it. It felt like constantly being outnumbered. The brothers all jumped to each other’s defense. Seemingly, and maybe this was a lingering sense of paranoia, always against him. “Blunted blades. I’m sure Commander Cullen must be familiar with them.” He looked at him until Cullen was forced to nod lest anything get anymore more awkward. “I can’t imagine why he would take issue. Percy and I haven’t sparred with wooden swords since before you were sent away.”

“And that’s with him being ten years old and everything,” Percy said as he grabbed one of the blunted swords that hung opposite the wooden ones. He hefted it in his hand, testing the weight and grinning. He reminded Cullen of the type of man Varric might make the main character or love interest in one of his books. He was handsome and, to everyone aside from Cullen, seemed charming and at ease with his place in the world. It rankled to know that he could never be that. He could never even be anything in the eyes of a man like that.

“Can I speak to you?” The Inquisitor motioned for her brother to join her in a private conversation to the side. Where one brother went the other two followed and Cullen was swallowed with a desperate sense of missing Branson. If he were here at least there would be two against three. He knew that his thoughts were childish, immature, totally unworthy of him but he couldn’t fight them off.

“Her brothers want me dead,” he muttered when Dorian and the Iron Bull sidled up by him. Varric was off to the side collecting bets which didn’t make Cullen feel any better.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Dorian huffed as if it was the most absurd thing that he had ever heard. Cullen felt better for it. His muscles relaxed slightly and his stomach didn’t quite feel like someone had kicked him and never took their foot away.

“Yeah,” the Iron Bull agreed, “that little one doesn’t even know you exist. He just stares right through you.” Cullen was back to feeling miserable. “The other two totally, totally wanna give you a beat down though.” Cullen turned his attention away from the huddled Trevelyans. They were glancing over at him and it unnerved him. He supposed that might have been the point.

“What have I done to make them hate me so much?” He posed the question to Dorian and the Iron Bull. Dorian gave him a look that said it should be obvious but when Cullen continued to stare at him blankly he rolled his eyes and deigned to answer.

“I would wager it’s the way you stare at their sister that’s got them feeling protective.”

“What? I do no such thing.” Cullen was offended that Dorian would suggest such a thing. He thought that he was doing a very adequate job of stealthily staring at their sister. They had only been here for a night, after all, they couldn’t accurately judge how much he may or may not stare at their sister in such short an amount of time.

“You’re doing it right now.”

“I am not!” Cullen felt his cheeks heat as he pulled his treacherous eyes off the Inquisitor’s back and focusing them on Dorian. The mage made a smooth, effortless shrug in response. The Iron Bull put a large hand on Cullen’s shoulder and wheeled him so that he was once against staring at the Trevelyan family.

“Cullen. Look. Pretty Boy’s probably good, but you’ve the same basic training. He’s confident because he’s a bit younger. Has the look about him of someone who took naturally to fighting, hasn’t been bested often. He’s going to be flashy, showing off. He likes attention, right? Use it against him.” He also wasn’t coming off a lyrium addiction and had probably slept soundly the past ten years. Cullen nodded though to let Bull know he appreciated the attempt at moral boosting. Cullen knew once he got into the ring it wouldn’t be so terrible. He would be able to shut his mind off from everything that wasn’t the fight.

As if on cue because Cullen wasn’t feeling ill at ease enough Cole popped into existence by his side as well. He stifled the groan that threatened to break free. He didn’t want to hear… whatever it was Cole was about to say.

“Something in the stomach tied with twine, tight and tangled, tossed up and caught in lace and liquid gold. Pride gone soft and torn away to something more.” The strange boy tilted his head. “Brothers. Paper walls that do not know their thinness. _I will not become a Templar while my sister sits as a prisoner for being a mage._ Floating on the wind feeling frightened for their forced penance prickling at the back of her neck. _Any Templar touches you and I’ll kill them, I swear it by the Maker I will._ ” He paused. Cullen could feel the Iron Bull and Dorian’s uncertainty. These weren’t their thoughts nor his so they must be some jumbled mess of the Trevelyan siblings. Cole blinked and focused his watery eyes on Cullen. “…she’s asking him not to hurt you.”

It was all that Cullen thought about as he and Percy sparred.

It was all that Cullen thought about when he won.  
_  
She’s asking him not to hurt you._

 

~

 

Cullen saw the Inquisitor as he was on his way to offer up a quick prayer in the Chantry. She was strolling through the gardens, fingers lightly touching the plants that bloomed and blossomed. He looked around, caught no sight of her brothers, and made the bold decision to approach her. “Inquisitor!” He called. She turned to him and smiled when she saw him. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” They rarely crossed paths outside of the War Room or Cullen’s office. There was so much work to be done and the Inquisitor spent a good portion of that time out and about in the world.

“I was just waiting for my brothers,” she said which answered the first of Cullen’s questions. “Percy wanted a bath to soothe his broken ego and I think Kay and Lancel were intercepted by Josephine about something or another.” She looked down at a flower bush that Cullen wasn’t certain he had ever seen before. His visits to the garden were always limited to the Chantry, however, and he knew very little of flowers anyway to be able to recognize something on sight.

“Do you… like these flowers?” He found himself asking as she pulled a petal and brought it to her noise to smell.

“Yes,” she answered and looked back up at him. “My brothers brought them from the grand garden in Ostwick to make me feel more at home.” She offered the petal up to him, holding it close enough to his nose that he got the point without invading his personal space. He nodded and dipped down to smell.

“That’s very kind of them,” he commented, recognizing the scent as something the Inquisitor either used as soap or perfume from time to time. He raised his eyes from the petal and her hand and found himself frozen by her eyes. She looked at him as if she could see right through the persona he had crafted, but not in the way that made him feel inadequate and broken. She looked at him now as if she could see him as he really was, awkward maybe but willing to love and learn and hope. She looked at him as no one ever had before. Like he had value beyond his rank and duty.

“I already feel very at home here,” she said in what was little more than a whisper. The lowness of her voice made him lean closer.

“I’m glad…”

“Evelyn!” A voice called and the moment shattered. Cullen fell back his body electrified with the sensation of being caught doing something wrong. The Inquisitor ran a hand through her bangs and took a deep breath, turning to face her younger brother as he bounded into the garden with them. “Evelyn!” He called again before coming to a stop in a way that seemed to angle him between their bodies. “You promised to show us around.”

“Where’s Lancel?” She asked.

“He’s waiting at the stables.” Kay grabbed her arm and made to tug her away. The Inquisitor dug her heels into the ground. Kay, though taller, didn’t possess the strength to budge her.

“We were supposed to meet here,” she insisted. “Go get him and bring him here.”

“No, let’s just go ourselves.” He stopped trying to move her physically and fell back on trying to convince her verbally. Cullen wondered if he should leave them to this. Certainly his moment—or whatever it actually was—with the Inquisitor had passed and wouldn’t likely be rekindled here and now. “You know how Lancel is. He loves horses.” The Inquisitor perked up at that and extended a hand towards Cullen.

“You know, Commander Cullen is the one who recommended our horse master,” she bragged though if Cullen had been paying attention it wasn’t Kay that cared about the horses at all. By the look of flat disinterest on the teenager’s face he had been paying attention. “They’re both from Ferelden,” she continued despite the obviousness of Kay’s opinion on the matter. “Oh, there’s Percy! He’ll get Lancel.” She shot off to where she had spotted her other brother. Cullen was torn between attempting some sort of conversation with the young man or simply slinking off.

“Ferelden,” the boy repeated. “That explains a lot.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said,” Kay said, leveling Cullen with a challenging look, “that explains a lot.”

“What, exactly, does it explain?” He knew he shouldn’t be getting involved in this sort of conversation with a teenage boy who was the younger brother of the woman he was totally infatuated with. Likely by virtue of being the youngest child and the least physically impressive of the four siblings Kay had mastered the art of getting under people’s skin and he had placed himself firmly beneath Cullen’s.

“The poor manners for one.” He seemed happy enough to tick off Cullen’s failings on his fingers. “The silly clothes. The way you look at my sister even though you aren’t anywhere near of good enough stock for her. Not only is she Lady Evelyn Trevelyan of Ostwick, but she’s also the Herald of Andraste and the Inquisitor. Really, only a Ferelden would think none of that mattered and would proceed to totally inappropriate—“ That struck a nerve.

“I have done nothing inappropriate regarding the Inquisitor.” He must have been using his Commander voice because the boy shrank back a bit, a startled but altogether rather self-satisfied look on his face. Before he could stumble out an apology for losing his temper the Inquisitor was back with them and that conversation was done.

 

~

 

Josephine organized a party for the night before the brothers were set to leave. Cullen spent most of it either feeling like he was forcing his company on any number of the inner circle or resigning himself to hovering at the edges. He didn’t know the dances or even the etiquette for initiating conversation or eating or… anything. Part of him was content to watch the Inquisitor laughing and dancing and seeming as much in here element as she ever was. The other part of him languished as he thought of his own inadequacies. What was he? A man who held no title, who owned no land, who had nothing at all outside of the Inquisition. When everything was over what then? He would be penniless, homeless, a nothing.

“So, I’ve got to ask.” Lancel Trevelyan’s gruff voice cut through Cullen’s self-loathing fantasy of this future destitution. He looked to the man who stood by him now, arms crossed across his chest, seemingly as unamused by everything that was going on around them as Cullen was unenthused by it. “Do you ever smile, Commander?”

“Only when the situation calls for it,” he answered.

“And us leaving doesn’t fall under that category?”

“All of Skyhold will be sad to see you and your brothers leave.” Cullen was proud of the answer and even prouder of how quickly it had come to him. They said you couldn’t teach an old dog new tricks but clearly he was learning something from spending so much time around Josephine.

“That’s a very diplomatic answer,” Lancel pointed out. “Evelyn says you’ve been practicing that sort of thing.” Cullen thought it a blessing that the lights were so dim. He couldn’t believe that the Inquisitor had told her brothers he had been trying to impress them. Likely she did it in a misguided attempt at having them be nice to him. “I’m no good at it myself,” he said with a small sigh. “It’s why my father dreads when I’ll inherit, of course he’ll be dead so what does it matter to him.” Cullen didn’t know what to say to that. He didn’t know what to say to most of what Lancel was saying. “Hm, you see? I’m better off remaining silent.” There was a pause and Cullen was glad to stand in moderately companionable silence with this man. It was the least aggressive he had seen any of her brothers behave towards him in their time here. “Evelyn spoke highly of you through letter and while we were here.”

“Your sister is too kind.” It was with great self-control that Cullen restrained himself from asking exactly what the Inquisitor had said about him.

“Yes,” Lancel said with a nod. “And I’m not kind at all.” Cullen was nodding as well before he paused to process what it was that had been said to him. He tilted his head and looked at the thicker man.

“Excuse me? Is that… are you threatening me?” The look that Lancel gave him made it clear that it was precisely what he was doing. Cullen wanted to roll his eyes. He didn’t think that he screamed potential threat to their sister’s virginity. Firstly because Sera’s game had made it known to all that she wasn’t a virgin and secondly because he was too bumbling to do much but pine hopelessly.

“Evelyn said we’d like you as much as she did but I think that made it impossible by the fact of how much she seems to like you.” Lancel hefted his shoulders back in what was likely, and successfully, and attempt at hammering home his impressive stature. “Yes, that was a threat, Commander, because if I have to come back here on anything other than a pleasant visit to see my baby sister or actual business between my family and the Inquisition I will be in a most foul mood.” Cullen frowned but merely nodded. There was little he could say. Lancel was at least being straightforward about his intent towards Cullen’s attentions towards the Inquisitor. Lancel looked him up and down, clearly having expected more of some sort of argument. When he was content with the fact that Cullen wasn’t going to mouth off or throw a punch or claim insist that there was nothing for Lancel to be suspicious about. “You don’t look at all how Varric described you in _The Tale of the Champion_.”  
That time Cullen did roll his eyes.

 

~

 

The Inquisitor knocked on the door while already in his office. He smiled at the familiarity of it. “It was nice to have my brothers around,” she said without prompting, “but they monopolized my attentions. I feel like I barely spoke two words to you the whole time they were here.” Cullen wouldn’t argue that, though he didn’t think it was totally a happenstance that it was the case. Whenever he had thought he might have a moment to even ask the Inquisitor how her day was doing one of her brothers would appear. It had been a long few days of feeling constantly watched. “Would you like to play chess?”

“Absolutely,” he said a little too eagerly but found he didn’t really care about that anymore. He was eager. She moved a pile of books off the table they used to play off of and Cullen began setting up the board.

“So, what did you think of them?” She asked, biting on her lip lightly in a way that drove Cullen to distraction. He lowered his eyes to focus on what he was doing partly because he didn’t want to be caught staring at her and partly because he still didn’t feel political enough to say what he wanted to say while looking her in the eyes.

“They were nice.”

“Nice, but?” She pressed. He looked up to find her smiling at him and it drew a smile from him as well. He laughed a little nervously and rubbed one of his hands of his neck.

“I don’t think they liked me very much,” he confessed. She looked honestly startled.

“What makes you say that?” He toyed with the idea of leaving it where it lay. The chances of them being together was slim to none. It didn’t matter if her brothers didn’t want him with her. In the end, the way her eyes looked at him with the utmost trust and her smiled hung waiting for him to speak, he decided he would not lie to her.

“Well, your youngest brother came right out and told me.” She looked surprised. “Your next oldest brother was about a moment away from trying to actually duel me.” She nodded at that. “And your eldest brother threatened me on his way out.” The Inquisitor put her face in her hands for a moment. When she pulled them away she was blushing furiously.

“Oh, Cullen, I’m so sorry. I didn’t they were being so childish behind my back. I was distracted by how childish they were being to my front.” She reached out and put a hand over his at it was placing the pieces in order. He stopped what he was doing and looked at her.

“It doesn’t matter,” he assured. She laced her fingers with his. His heart seemed to stop and start at a faster pace.

“No,” she agreed, looking at him the way she had in the garden, “it doesn’t.”


End file.
